Over Again
by FlyWithMeToNeverland09
Summary: When two muggle girls fall headfirst into a world they thought was fictional with complete knowledge of what happens in the future and meet the Golden Trio in their first year, there's bound to be change. Yeah, Voldemort's going down. *Book One*


A/N: Hi people of Earth! Basically, we're not sure if this is going to become a story in the near future, but we are hoping that this will become a thing for us to do. We are, after all, a little busy trying to take over the world with an army of flying monkeys and emus. Of course we are going to work on this as often as our school lives allow us to, but because of our hectic lives this won't always be a top priority, however much we love Harry Potter and want to work on this story.

For now, we just want you to enjoy this as much as we do.

Love, Emma and Dilara x

From the outside, Samantha Connor and Elizabeta Jones had the perfect friendship. They completed each other's sentences and somehow understood what the other was feeling before they even thought of it - and it was for that reason that most people assumed that they were sisters. This wasn't helped by how much time they spent together or how they always seemed to be seen hanging out together whether it be at school, at home or somewhere strange (they frequented small parks meant for children quite often).

That particular Tuesday morning, however, they were cooped up in Liz's bedroom, sprawled out on her bed and flicking through Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, still a little drowsy from the dawning September just coming.

"Have you finished Deathly Hallows yet?" asked Sam from where she was curled up on a beanbag, almost like a cat.

"Yep," replied Liz, popping the 'p'. "I finished it on the plane back from Turkey." Liz flicked the next page (already knowing what went on anyway).

"Oh damn, the Half-Blood Princess," drawled Sam with an arched eyebrow. "I forgot about your obsession with that one."

"It's not an obsession!" screeched Liz heatedly. "But Dumbledore's death scared the shit out of me. I can't stop reading it!"

Sam rolled her eyes, army-crawling off the beanbag and dragging herself onto the bed. "I know, but I just think that JK Rowling got lazy with that one. It's just foreshadowing and teenage angst. Deathly Hallows or Chamber of Secrets are so much better or even Prisoner of Azkaban." Liz scoffed at her, but handed her the book, allowing her to throw it across the room at the bookshelf that sat on the right wall, next to the door.

Both girls screeched in shock when the door opened and dove off the bed, glaring at the person in the doorway. Liz's mother, Maureen, laughed at them as both girls hissed like cats at the sudden interruption, shaking her head, her hair up in a messy ponytail (as it always was for housework) and a basket of washing in her arms, her eyes filled with amusement.

"What do you want, Mother?" Liz pretended to be angry. (Sam cackled as she rolled around the floor at her resemblance to Draco Malfoy).

"I want you to clean out the attic," said Maureen with a smirk, making both girls groan. "Oh don't you dare give me that tone, girls. You both promised last night that you would clean up the mess you made last summer."

"What mess?" said Sam innocently, batting her eyelashes.

Maureen blinked owlishly before shaking her head. "You left pizza boxes and empty coke cans up there," she told them firmly. "I'm not having that crap in my house - and while you're up there, you're dusting the paintings, your father wants to bring them down."

Liz groaned but nodded, grabbing Sam by the shoulder and stormed out of the room. "Wait until my father hears about this!" she flounced off, her tone worthy of even Draco Malfoy.

Maureen's laughter could be heard from two floors up, and Liz pouted as she climbed into the attic.

"Am I funny or what?" she said smugly, and Sam snorted, glancing over her shoulder.

"Not," said Sam firmly.

Liz pouted.

The attic was, in Maureen's words, cluttered and messy. In Sam's words, it was a shithole. The skylight was so covered with dust that no light filtered through, so Liz had to grab a torch in order to see three feet in front of her - dust covered the floor, along with emptied pizza boxes (which were covered with mold and were the home to several mice) and Coca Cola cans, which were upside down, crushed and collected into a strange pile in the middle of the room (which was all the two girls had been bothered to do before they came down a summer ago). Paintings, mirrors and old boxes of things they hadn't been bothered to unpack when they'd moved in years ago were cluttered around the sides, along with suitcases from old holidays that still had remnants of clothes in them.

"Your attic is a shithole," said Sam bluntly, picking up a pizza box and screaming when a rat poked it's nose out of the lid, throwing it on the other side of the room.

It touched the glass of a mirror and vanished.

Both girls shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air, clutching each other.

"What the actual fuck?" Liz screamed, and Sam shook her head, lost for words.

The mirror was larger than both the girls in both width and height. It was dull and cracked, covered in grime and dust from years of being in that attic, small bits of the elaborate frame cracked and broken off. Their reflections stared in horror at the mirror and the girls approached the mirror, wide-eyed and a little scared. Sam swallowed her pride and brushed some grime off the top, her eyes widening comically when she spotted the wording at the top.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire," Sam breathed.

"Oh my Merlin..."

Liz trailed off, grabbing Sam's elbow as she walked up beside her, resting her shaking fingers against the edge of the frame.

In the mirror's reflection, there she was. Liz was tall, skinny and wild-haired, with dark chocolate curls and a pair of bright hazel eyes that shone with browns, greens and small flecks of yellow. She had pale skin and at that moment was wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt, but her reflection wore Gryffindor robes, had a wand in her hand and was beaming so widely, surrounded by people she only knew in stories.

Sam gaped at her own reflection. She was shorter than Liz, skinny and had a very wild appearance, though her dark blonde hair was only mildly wavy, her dark hazel eyes standing out starkly against pale white skin. In the mirror, she wore long, sweeping Gryffindor robes and clutched a dark wand in her hand, a crooked grin on her face as she stood with Liz among people she thought only existed in books.

"Whoa," they breathed in unison.

"What is this thing?" asked Liz, wide-eyed.

"The Mirror of Erised," offered Sam with a small, trembling smile. "What the hell is it doing in your attic?"

"Beats me," Liz shrugged, but grinned. "It is pretty badass, though."

Sam shook her head. "But Harry Potter's not real, is it?" she asked rhetorically. "Magic is bullshit. Fun bullshit, but bullshit nonetheless."

Liz nodded in agreement, but watched with wide eyes as Sam approached the mirror, looking around for the mysteriously disappeared pizza box. "Be careful, Sam," she cautioned, and Sam ignored her, leaning against the mirror as she looked around behind it.

And then Sam vanished through the mirror.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Liz screamed, running over to the mirror and looking behind it. There was no sign of her best friend. "Sammie? Sam, this isn't funny!"

Liz blinked owlishly, stepping back and shaking her head, staring with wide eyes at this magical mirror that showed up in her attic so suddenly. She didn't remember it being there last summer when she and Sam had thrown a small party in the attic (inviting pretty much everyone in their history class at school) nor when they'd moved in and she helped her Dad put the boxes up there.

"Sammie?" she whispered.

No answer. Sam was gone.

Liz looked around.

This mirror was magical. She remembered many nights she spent awake with Sam just talking about how amazing it would be to live in the Harry Potter world, and this - this was her chance to live the life she wished she did. And anywhere Sam went, Liz wasn't far behind. The thought of Sam being in danger with no help or anyone to find comfort in made her feel sick, but the thought of Sam being lost and alone anyway made her feel light-headed so, without a second thought, Liz stepped through the mirror.

Liz disappeared.

"You'll never take me alive!" giggled six-year-old Elizabeta McGonagall as she ran down the Charms corridor as quickly as her little legs could carry her. Behind her, a large burly figure that easily identified as Rubeus Hagrid came charging towards her, with six-year-old Samantha McGonagall squealing, clutching onto his thick beard from where she was perched on his shoulder.

Elizabeta, most commonly known as Liz, pushed open the doors to the Great Hall with a small scream, running between the empty Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables towards her mother, Minerva McGonagall, sat at the Head Table. Liz bowled her mother over in such a tight hug that Minerva's face turned slightly purple and clutched to her mother's shoulders as the disgruntled Transfiguration professor lifted her daughter up, watching as Hagrid bowled into the Great Hall, a screeching dark blonde-haired girl on his shoulder.

"You confuse me," she said simply as she stared down at her daughters, who shrugged back up at her.

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Sam sweetly as she pecked Hagrid's cheek, jumping off his shoulder with ease - accidental magic, Minerva chalked it up to.

"No problem, Sammie."

Hagrid beamed down at the small girl, a strange look of fondness in the half-giant's eyes. He'd always had a special bond with the McGonagall twins.

"Mummy!" Liz giggled as she leaned against her mother, Sam on her other side. "Hagrid took us into the Hippogriff pen this morning - "

" - and we made friends with Buckbeak - " continued Sam with a grin.

" - he's so cute, Mummy - "

" - and we met the Thestrals again - "

" - but we still can't see them," finished Liz, shaking her head. "I wanna see them!"

Minerva shook her head fondly, watching as Sam and Liz ran back out after Hagrid.

Dear Miss McGonagall,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

"LIZZIE!"

"SAMMIE!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"WE GOT OUR FUCKING HOGWARTS LETTERS!"

"I FUCKING KNOW! WE'VE BEEN LIVING AT HOGWARTS FOR ELEVEN FUCKING YEARS!"

Minerva McGonagall glowered at her twins, who were screeching across the Great Hall to each other, at opposite ends of the Head Table. Liz was sitting beside the infamous Potions professor, Severus Snape, and Sam was sitting beside Filius Flitwick, the Charms teacher, and the duo were hardly considerate to care that pretty much the entire table was flinching, covering their ears, and poor Pomona Sprout (the Herbology professor) had ducked under the table, wearing a pair of Mandrake earmuffs.

"Language, girls," scolded Dumbledore absently, not affected in the slightest, flicking through the Daily Prophet.

"Sorry, Dumbles," said Sam cheekily, ducking a thrown bread roll from her sister, who blushed at the blatant disrespect towards the headmaster.

Dumbledore, however, didn't seem to care.

Sam grabbed a handful of hash browns from Professor Vector's plate and threw it across the room at Liz, who opened her mouth and caught one between her teeth, smirking at her sister. Fucking Chaser skills, thought Sam darkly before she picked up a platter of pancakes and syrup and threw it at Liz. Liz was soon drenched in syrup, pulling it out of her hair, her mouth open in anger though she happily ate a pancake.

"You bitch," Liz gasped, but before it could erupt into a food fight, Minerva flicked her wand, vanishing the syrup from Liz (and the several professors that were covered when the platter flew above them) and sufficiently silencing them both.

"Shut up, the both of you, and eat your breakfast like respectable people," she scolded, glaring at them both, and both girls sat down, grumbling.

Yes, growing up at Hogwarts had been eventful.

Liz opened her eyes with a gasp, her eyes widening as she sat up. She felt - strange, smaller somehow. Her body tingled, as if she'd just shrunk in the wash like a shirt that her mother had accidentally shrunk. Immediately her thoughts flickered to the Mirror of Erised, Sam disappearing and stepping through the mirror to follow her best friend, and instantaneously she was back on her feet, staring at the large street in front of her.

Diagon Alley.

Eeylops Owl Emporium, Magical Menagerie, Amanuensis Quills, Flourish and Blotts, Gambol and Japes, Madame Malkin's, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Broomstix and Ollivander's Wand Shop stood proudly in front of her, lost in an assortment of other shops. She quickly looked up the road - Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wasn't there yet, so it was probably well before Harry's sixth year when the shop had officially opened.

"I really hope this is real and that I didn't hit my head and start hallucinating," she breathed with wide eyes.

"I'm pretty sure we're real," said a dreamy voice from behind her, and Liz whirled around, wide-eyed.

Luna Lovegood was exactly the way she'd been described. Long, white hair tumbled around her shoulders in a straight mane of locks and a pair of oversized dreamy grey eyes stared out of her round, youthful face. She was dressed in a pair of long blue wizard robes and her arms were full of copies of the Quibbler, and a pair of Spectrespecs sat on her nose, obscuring her eyes from view.

"Hi," said Liz uncertainly, but the words she spoke next seemed to sound natural. "I'm Liz. Liz McGonagall."

"Hello, Liz McGonagall," Luna beamed at her. "I am Luna Lovegood." Luna paused. "I'd shake hands with you, but I might transfer Wrackspurts to you. You seem to be a clean enough person. Nargles aren't clustered around you like they are some others." Liz gaped, unsure that her voice still worked properly, her breath still stolen by the fact that she was standing in Diagon Alley talking to Luna motherfucking Lovegood.

"Your sister is looking for you," added Luna after a moment of silence. "Just around the corner outside Ollivander's. Samantha asked me if I knew where you were. She looked very confused when she said she were looking for her sister - almost like you weren't sisters or something." Liz gaped in shock, but Luna smiled gently. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"How did you know?" asked Liz, finally finding her voice.

Luna smiled dreamily. "The Heliopaths are clustering around you."

And, with that, Luna skipped off, that same dotty smile on her face.

Liz whirled around when she heard someone calling her name, and she smiled widely when she spotted Sam, and then that changed into a look of horror.

Sam was eleven years old again. Looking down, she realized that so was she. "Oh my fucking God," Sam breathed, before sprinting over, picking her up in a long, relieved hug. Liz frowned when she spotted the large amounts of bags that were in her sister's hands - it still felt weird to talk about her as her sister - as if Sam had been shopping there before.

"What's going on?" she asked anxiously as she pulled back.

"Come with me," said Sam with a strange urgency, grabbing her hand and pulling her into Knockturn Alley. Liz looked around, still in awe, but Sam wasted no time pulling them into a small alcove, staring at her. "Don't you understand, Lizzie?"

Liz blinked. "Understand what?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "We've always lived in this world," she explained with a small frown. "Hogwarts was our home growing up. There's something about being here in this world that feels right - like this is what was supposed to happen. I still remember everything from the muggle life, the one we lived before, but still, it feels like the memories from this world are stronger somehow."

"And that means that the muggle life we had was just something that we invented or something equally stupid."

"Probably, yeah," Sam admitted. "I don't exactly know - but I saw MISSING posters of us in the front window of Flourish and Blotts. We are and always have been Liz and Sam McGonagall, not Sam Connor and Liz Jones. This is the world we were supposed to live in."

"And we can help Harry," Liz breathed. "We can save Sirius, Remus, Snape, Fred, Tonks, Dobby, Moody - we can save all of them."

Sam nodded. "But we have to be careful," she added. "We can't let it slip that we know about the future. Voldemort and the Death Eaters would stop at nothing to find us and get the information on the future. We can't let that happen."

Liz agreed quietly, admiring the bags in her hands. "From what I remember, we already have an owl named Snuffles, and I've bought our books, potions ingredients and cloaks (because we're pretty much the same size) with the money from Gringrotts, so now all we need is a wand."

The twins slowly backed out of Knockturn, making sure no one spotted them as they ran to Ollivander's, a sudden excitement hanging around them. If this world was real, they were going to cherish every single moment. Ollivander's was just like it was in the films and the books, a small shop that was stacked with wands and had a golden bell above the door that chimed every time someone opened the door. A long, spindly wand sat on a purple satin cushion in the window.

"Ah, Misses McGonagall, I've been waiting for you."

Both girls jumped and whirled around, finding Mr Ollivander standing behind them, just as the books described. Tall, thin and stick-like, with tufts of white hair sticking out around his head and a short but crooked nose standing out from his features. Immediately, both girls took a half-step back before realizing that this was the man who helped Harry destroy Voldemort, and instantly they felt a little more comfortable, no matter how unsettling he was.

"Oldest first," said Mr Ollivander with a small smile.

Sam exchanged a curious look with Liz before stepping forward, offering out her right arm dutifully. Mr Ollivander pulled out a tape measure that instantly flew over towards Sam and started measuring her length of her arm, the space between her fingers and her wingspan, which was perfectly proportional to her height, thank you very much. It was measuring the space between her nostrils when Mr Ollivander finally dismissed it and sent it over to Liz, who jumped when it started measuring how big her feet were.

Mr Ollivander plucked a wand from the shelf and handed it to Sam, who flicked it obediently.

And the chandelier promptly exploded.

Blinking, Ollivander snatched it back, shaking his head. "Nope," he muttered. "Try this - elm, 10 1/4 inches, nice and supple, dragon heartstring core."

Sam took it. The wands flew right off the shelf.

"Let's see - this one."

Four wands later, Sam was holding a wand that was applewood, 11 1/2 inches, unyielding, phoenix feather core.

She flicked it.

Royal blue and golden sparks erupted from the end of her wand and illuminated the dark room. Sam's face lit up and a grin spread over her face.

"Excellent for Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Ollivander knowingly. "A very powerful wand indeed, Miss McGonagall. You'll do great things with that wand."

Liz stepped forward eagerly, and Ollivander smiled at her dottily. "Try this one - " he handed her a holly wood, Thestral hair core that was nice and supple, and immediately the chandelier (which had been fixed when Sam had broken it with a flick of Ollivander's own wand) exploded over them.

Ollivander blinked owlishly. "I never liked that chandelier anyway," he muttered absently, and the pieces were banished, leaving the room in darkness.

Squinting, Liz was startled when Ollivander shoved the eighth wand into her hand. "Elm wood, 11 inches, phoenix feather core, springy, excellent for an Auror," said the old wandmaker ominously, and he cheered and clapped when Liz's wand erupted into green and golden sparks. "Ah, very curious. Unexpected. I would have thought that wand was made for someone else... but nonetheless, great things will be done with that wand."

"Can you just - can we pay, please?" asked Liz uncomfortably.

Ollivander nodded and moved over to his desk. "That's nine galleons, three sickles and one knut," he said quietly, watching them through silently narrowed eyes.

Sam handed over the money and the two girls all but sprinted from the shop, glad to leave such a horrible place behind. The air in there - it was hard to describe, almost like it was as old as the man that had spoken to them. It was strange but it gave anyone entering an uneasy feeling, and the twins were glad to be leaving it behind.

They sat down in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and ordered, keeping their faces hidden. Shopping bags sat around their ankles, filled with school supplies, though both of them had a funny feeling that there would be more in their private rooms at Hogwarts - and the two girls fell into a comfortable silence as they tucked into their ice creams, eager to sit down and eat after the excitement of the day.

"What do we do now?" asked Liz, playing with the spoon in her mint chocolate ice cream.

"I think we should stay in the Leaky Cauldron until September 1st and then take the Knight Bus to Kings Cross, and surprise Mum and the professors when we walk in with the other first years," explained Sam after a pregnant pause. "That way we'll get to take the Hogwarts Express and, at the same time, be reunited with our family."

Liz smirked back at her sister. "I like the way you think, dear sister," she snorted, and Sam laughed.

Ten minutes later, they were following Tom through the twisted, slanted hallways of The Leaky Cauldron on the way to their overnight room, their school supplies in their arms. Tom bowed them into their room and beamed at them as they waved before shutting the door.

Sam immediately dropped her bags, sprinting over to the nearby bed and falling face first on top of it. She moaned in content and snuggled into the pillow, a satisfied expression on her face. Liz, meanwhile, walked over to the nightstand, picking up the Daily Prophet sat on the dark wood, her eyes widening when she spotted the date.

August 31st.

One more day until Hogwarts.


End file.
